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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579635">Mischief Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/agapecentauri/pseuds/agapecentauri'>agapecentauri</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera &amp; Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:02:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,679</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/agapecentauri/pseuds/agapecentauri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloween 2019: participated in a-partofthenarrative's Halloween writing prompt for Halloween.  Originally posted on FFN under "Various Writing Prompts."  Gearing up for this year's Halloween writing prompt too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Meg Giry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mischief Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>POTO 13 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN: OCTOBER 28th</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mischief Night<br/></span>
  </em>
  <span>Written &amp; Submitted for a-partofthenarrative’s 13 Nights of POTO Halloween</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(A modern AU E/C, R/M fic that happens after “Once Upon Another Time.  This one is told from Erik’s perspective, which is a very different lens for me to write.  Although I’ve never read the HP books, I do recall the boggart.  I hope you enjoy the crossover!)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I never liked Halloween.  I hated mischief night even more.  Did children and young adults really need another evening to act like raging lunatics?  Of course not.  So when my siblings-by-happenstance, Raoul and Meg, mentioned to us about this new traveling fair making its way across the state, I was reluctant at best.  What I didn’t realize, however, was the evilness and fear that still lived on within my beloved’s memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two hour drive north into the outskirts of the Pocono Mountains was long.  The roads were covered in rain-soaked leaves making traction in the car rather treacherous.  The only thing that made it all worth it was the company of a beautiful angel sitting next to me, humming along to our favorite songs that first drew us together over six years ago.  My Christine, my songbird, my soul, my life, my everything.  Memories from our very first encounter flooded my mind as the sun set over the rolling mountains.  “Erik…” oh that sweet voice, “Erik, our exit is two more miles.”  I glanced over to look at her face.  “Backseat driver,” I bantered to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah… and you’re… something,” Christine grumbled and stuck her tongue out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Classy woman,” I jested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you love me,” Christine replied while grabbing my free hand and placing a gentle kiss upon my fingers with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We continued on for a few more miles off the highway, closely following Raoul’s car in front of us.  The rainstorm had finally cleared out earlier that afternoon and now the dark, night sky was beginning to come alive with twinkling stars.  When we finally parked, we stretched our legs before trekking through the mud towards the fair.  I should have known this was going to be a disaster because the eery, purple-hued lights gave off a warning: Enter at your own risk.  Christine’s fingers wove together with mine and I could feel a tinge of anxiety in her touch.  “My love, is everything alright?” I asked her.  She gave only a slight nod of affirmation.  Through everything that had happened in the past few years, I knew how to read her body and movements.  Her movement in this moment meant just one thing: she was steeling herself against an unknown foe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Entering the tent, we were bombarded with, of all things, a rather calming atmosphere, with child-like excitement one feels as the theatre lights dim before a performance or the anticipation of a spectacular fireworks display.  It was indeed magical.  We sincerely enjoyed ourselves as we took pictures of each other eating an unhealthy amount of blue cotton candy, popcorn, and what I gathered to be a supposed chilli dog.  We laughed, we attempted to scare each other, and we all tried our absolute best to get Raoul to scream like a child of which we failed miserably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until the end of our outing that a very different sign attracted our attention.  We observed folks going in straight-faced almost terrified on one side but emerging in hysterics on the other.  “What a peculiar oddity,” I mused aloud as we approached the main event.  On the sign, the instructions read: “Beware the Boggart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bog-gart?  Bo-gart?  Bogg-art?”  We all took turns butchering the word.  “I like Bo-gart!  Like Humphrey Bogart!” Meg laughed.  “Oh, we should watch Casablanca this weekend!!”  We broke out in hysterics at Meg’s spirograph of thoughts and verbiage, but honestly we were all struggling to figure out what a Boggart truly was and what was the catch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, young people, you seem intrigued by a new wonder birthed of witchcraft and wizardry, of folklore of the ancient English hills.  Of the days of Merlin and King Arthur; of the beautiful and treasonous lovers of Lady Guinevere and Sir Lancelot,” an English accented voice harkened us closer to learn more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s a Boggart and what’s the big deal?” Raoul bluntly asked.  No fooling my friend on ancient magic and silliness.  It was the eve of Halloween, after all, Mischief Night… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A skeptic I have found in you, dear lad.  A Boggart is a shapeless demon who takes the shape of your biggest fears.  And the only way to kill it?  Laughter.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Laughter to conquer fear?” Christine asked quietly.  “Can one laugh in the face of fear?  Is it possible to laugh at a nightmare?”  She was trembling, the steel of her spine slowly melting away from the heat building from anxiety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you think of anything better than laughter, my dear?  What better way to make the fear go away other than laughing at it head on?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Running…” I heard Christine whisper ever so faintly.  I felt again something shift within her as her grip on my hand grew stronger.  It felt like a challenge, like she honestly wanted to try this.  I looked at her pleadingly and asked in confirmation, “Are you sure you want to do this?”  Again, she gave only a slight nod of affirmation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg and Raoul entered first rather stoic and cautious, arm in arm together.  The rules were simple: one person stands in front of the mirror, the handler releases the latch, and out stumbles the cloudy, shapeless boggart awaiting to take form of your greatest fear, your partner standing in the sidelines as a reinforcement in case fear completely takes over, and attempts to bring out laughter.  The handler remains in place with a bag of supposed tricks to induce laughter in case things get out of hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rather sarcastically I chided, “What could POSSIBLY go wrong?” as Christine let out a nervous chuckle.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose everything could…” she couldn’t finish her thought before we both saw Meg and Raoul emerging on the other side in absolute hysterics, near tears, sides roaring in pain with laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gosh you guys, do it!  It’s so scary at first but holy crap was it hilarious!” Meg screamed in excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready when you are, Erik,” Christine pulled herself up to my face and placed a gentle kiss onto my lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christine entered first as I watched apprehensively in the darkened room.  The mirror towered in front of her and I could see her chest rising hard and fast, her nerves building.  And suddenly, there it was, the dark unshaped cloud swirling its way around my beloved.  And soon it stopped hard in front of her, a more apparent form taking shape, coming to life.  In front of Christine stood the biggest fear of her entire existence.  A man… dark, short hair, chocolate brown eyes that fooled of warmth, a condescending bridge of a nose, eyes arched in sarcasm, a handsome face etched with ruthlessness, cruelty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s him, I knew it, it’s him…” I heard Christine’s trembled whisper.  “No, anything but you.”  She froze in fright as Kevin stood before her, a smirk on his smug face, his hands reaching up to caress her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, how long it’s been, to touch you again.  I see you’ve brought that monster with you.  Didn’t I teach you both a lesson, you selfish girl?” Kevin breathed onto her bare neck.  I stood in horror, in shock, feeling the rage and urge to throttle and kill Kevin… no, he’s not real, he’s NOT REAL!  I ran to her side and pulled her harshly into my arms.  Her body rock hard in fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you may believe, this man… this THING is not Kevin, he’s NOT REAL!” I implored her to focus her eyes on me.  “Christine, Christine, listen to me, look at me love.”  My voice begging and pleading for her to come back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such spirited, loving words,” Kevin the boggart mocked, and suddenly I watched in horror as this boggart morphed from Kevin into… my own monstrous reflection.  My deformed, loathsome face confronting my own.  My biggest fear in front of me - my horrid, deformed face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erik, no, no, you’re not a monster, no… Erik, look at me,” Christine now pleaded with me to pull my attention away from what’s haunted me since birth.  “I love you, I love you, I love you” she cried in between the I love you’s and the gentle kisses she placed upon my tear-stained face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loooooove,” growled the deformed boggart as both of us turned to see it take on the shape of Kevin but with my distorted, deformed face upon his own.  “Love!  LOVE, LOVE!” the boggart screamed in agony as Kevin lunged for us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“RAOUL!  MEG!” Christine screamed for help from our companions.  From the corner of my eye, I followed the bobbing blonde heads forming a protective human barrier between us and the boggart.  Suddenly I heard Meg randomly shriek the most absurd, ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spongebob Squarepants wearing tightie-whities!!!” She laughed hysterically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, WHAT?” was the less-than-coherent thing I could possibly utter, and suddenly before us stood an obnoxious yellow sponge in tight briefs underpants.  Somehow this boggart morphed from a menacing presence ready to kill into the most ridiculous cartoon character and laughed.  We laughed.  We actually laughed.  Tears streamed down our faces laughing at this absurdly stupid character in front of us laughing his cartoonish cackle.  Shortly after, the handler appeared to wrangle the boggart back into the wicked mirror.  With my arms wrapped protectively around Christine’s waist, I felt her head turn briefly back for one last glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kevin never fully appeared again, but took on a straight phantom-like shape.  “No one will love you like I do, Chris…” he whispered.  How did he…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wrong.  I love her most; I won and you lost.  And you’ll never have her again,” I growled at Kevin as the boggart again faded into a shapeless cloud and disappeared. </span>
</p>
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